


The Ambassador's Charter Service

by thegreatwordologist



Category: Cabin Pressure, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambassador Papyrus, Angst, Dad-issues, F/F, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Papyrus makes the world better!, Post-Pacifist, Sans hides shit, post-Zurich
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatwordologist/pseuds/thegreatwordologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to do his job properly, Papyrus must meet humans all over the world to show them that monsters are good.  However, Asgore could only find one charter service willing to fly monsters worldwide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Martin returns to MJN, and Papyrus is told the news

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give a shoutout to [Yessica](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yessica) for encouraging me to start this story! Before our little CP/UT geekfest, the idea would've just languished unwritten. Now... well, here we are!

"I thought I'd have to call to get you here before noon." Douglas chuckled at the sharp greeting, not the slightest perturbed by Carolyn's harshness. He sauntered toward her desk, leaning against it as he tipped his coffee to her. 

"You did call me." His reply was amiable and relaxed, and he was rewarded with the flash of Carolyn's smile as she snorted.

"Arthur called you," she corrected, finally looking up from the ancient desktop she still used for their paperwork. "I merely suggested to him that you could stand to show up on time today... for once."

Douglas laughed. "I don't know why you're so concerned, Carolyn. Birling Day was two months ago." He dropped into one of the seats opposite her, stretching out his long legs and relaxing. "It's not like you to fret over a customer this way." His smirk turned faintly predatory, and he sat up enough to lean toward the desk. "Don't tell me you've been buying Talisker again."

Carolyn huffed, glaring sharply at Douglas for a brief moment. As he held her gaze, the door behind him opened and shut. Her glare shifted, becoming a cold smile and her head tilted up slightly. "You'll need some help with this assignment, Douglas. Fortunately, I just so happen to have gotten wind of a rather good pilot looking for work. And now that we're expanding, I can do something about that." 

Douglas rolled his eyes, then froze as a familiar voice spoke up behind him. "Yes, well... not exactly the way I'd prefer to return to MJN, but it'll be nice to see GERT-I again." Douglas stiffened, his face going slack for a moment before he schooled himself into casual disinterest. Only once that was done did he turn back to look at Martin. 

"Never thought I'd see you come slumming back, Martin," he said. Under his gaze, Martin straightened. The boy looked far better than he had when he'd gone off to SwissAir, Douglas noted, but there was something in his eyes that suggested the improvements might not be quite as all-encompassing as Douglas might've liked.

"Yes, well," Martin huffed, moving to sit down in the chair beside Douglas. As always, he sat ramrod straight, his hat placed neatly on his knees. "It turns out that SwissAir and I don't see entirely eye-to-eye." He cast a glance over at Douglas, and Douglas was surprised to see rather a lot of suspicion directed straight at him. "Carolyn was..."

"Carolyn," the woman said, emphasizing her own name sharply, "felt the whole thing was ridiculous. And don't pretend for a moment that I saved you, Martin. Once we find the fourth pilot, and another plane, then this whole situation will be settled. For now, however..." She trailed off, her sharp look fading to one of mild discomfort as she glanced between the two of them. "Well... I did explain the situation," she finally muttered.

Douglas huffed, letting his eyes slide shut as he listened to them. "Do let me know when the two of you are finished making eyes at each other," he suggested, his voice deliberately casual. 

"We're not," Martin choked out in a strangled tone, and earned a laugh for his troubles. "I'm your first officer." It was clear he was trying to be relaxed about the title. "At least, I am as long as you..."

Douglas dragged his eyes open, and was treated with both of them looking at him suspiciously. "As long as I what, Martin?" he demanded. As many times as he'd been the center of attention in the past, it had always been reasonably comfortable. Even stealing Birling's Talisker hadn't earned him such dark looks.

"Douglas," Carolyn said. Her tone was no longer waspish, but he was familiar with it all the same. It was the tone she used with delicate customers - ones she didn't want to offend. "We haven't talked much about the news in the last year or so. However, for this job..." And Douglas understood, even as she trailed off, trying to find the words.

"You want to know if I'll tow the company line when it comes to monsters," he finished for her. Her eyes flashed sharply, her mouth drawn in a thin line at the way he'd worded it. Beside him, Martin was sitting so straight that Douglas was certain the poor boy would destroy his spine.

"It's not a joke, Douglas," Martin growled, hurt in the words. "It's not a company line. It's..."

"Is that why you left SwissAir, Martin?" Douglas asked. His voice was low and warm, pitched to invite confidences. He saw Martin nod stiffly, and his own smile faded a little. "They didn't like monsters."

"I never said they didn't," Martin began, and Douglas just laughed.

"You didn't have to, Martin. Of course you'd champion the monster cause. It would be un-Martin to do any less." He got to his feet, stretching a little as he turned to the door. "No need to worry about me, Carolyn. I've nothing against the monsters. Herc might, though... if any of them are sheep," he smirked back at the two, before ambling off to check the plane. And if Martin thought that was suspicious, well... he wasn't the only one who'd changed in the last couple of years.

\-----

Undyne was pacing. More than that, she was pacing with vehemence, her legs eating the ground as she strode back and forth across Asgore's living room. Each time she turned, her eyes would flash over at the king, glittering with anger and worry and determination, and then she'd set off again. She'd been going for well over five minutes without pause, and Papyrus was still struggling to figure out exactly what to say.

"IS THIS WHAT'S EXPECTED OF ALL AMBASSADORS?" he finally asked, careful to keep his tone calm. Beside him, Sans opened one socket halfway. Papyrus reached out one hand to pat Sans' arm. His brother was clearly just as concerned as he was, even if he was still pretending not to be.

"I believe our situation is rather... unique," Asgore noted calmly, taking little notice of the way Undyne's strides shifted to stomps. "As monsters, we face a certain... stigma. The best way to combat such stigma is to reach out, is it not?" His eyes shifted to the small child sitting amidst them, and the question stopped even Undyne.

Frisk scrambled to their feet and darted to stand in front of Papyrus. Their hands moved quickly through the words, then fell still. 

*It's like in the Underground. I was scared, but you believed in me!

Papyrus blinked in surprise, then smiled weakly. He reached out to take Frisk's hand, and beside him, Sans sighed softly.

"you're good at that, bro. it's a knack." When Frisk nodded sharply, Sans chuckled. "everybody here agrees you're the best."

Papyrus looked around in wonder for a moment, then looked back at Asgore uncomfortably. "I UNDERSTAND WHAT I MUST DO. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL CERTAINLY ENSURE THAT HUMANS KNOW WHAT GOOD FRIENDS MONSTERS CAN BE!" When he paused, Frisk crawled onto his lap.

*You won't be alone.

The reassurance was simple and direct, cutting through to the heart of Papyrus' great concern. His arms draped around the small human gently, but his eyes sought out Asgore. When Asgore nodded gently, it was all Papyrus could do to hide the relief he felt. "I wouldn't ask you to go out into the world alone, Papyrus," Asgore assured them all, his eyes flicking between Sans and Undyne.

"like i'd let you go without me, bro," Sans laughed, finally rousing himself from his slouch. "you'd get too bonely." Papyrus flinched slightly at the pun, but didn't complain.

"C'mon, punk!" Undyne snorted, stalking over to where Papyrus sat and slapping him on the shoulder. "We're not gonna make you do this alone. We stick together!"

Asgore smiled warmly, watching the four before holding out a hand to Frisk. The child squirmed free of Papyrus' lap and made their way over to where Asgore stood, leaning against his side as the remaining three looked between each other. Papyrus started to relax, and then a thought occurred to him.

"WAIT! UNDYNE, WHAT ABOUT ALPHYS? SURELY YOU DON'T INTEND TO LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Undyne's eyes cut away, one hand clenching into a fist. "We've got our phones," she muttered. "And Alphys made a tablet for me so that I could see her better when we talk. And... it's not like it's gonna be forever. We'll come back here all the time. You have to report to Asgore, after all! So when we do, I'll spend time with Alphys!"

"THAT'S NOT A GOOD SOLUTION, UNDYNE. THE TWO OF YOU ARE VERY GOOD TOGETHER," Papyrus protested, his hands twisting together in his lap. "SANS, DON'T YOU AGREE?"

Sans looked between the two of them, then shrugged, flashing Undyne a lazy grin. "of course i do, bro. but undyne's probably the best protector for ya." 

"SANS?" Papyrus pushed softly, and Sans let out a heavy sigh.

"don't worry so much, pap. i'll make sure they get some time together, okay?"

Satisfied with Sans' response, Papyrus nodded sharply, turning back to Asgore. "I SUPPOSE THAT'S EVERYTHING, ISN'T IT? WE'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, ASGORE," he promised, and though the emphasis and exuberance was back in his voice, his words were still rather muted.

"Thank you, Papyrus," Asgore rumbled, looking between the three. "I cannot think of a better ambassador to encourage peace with the humans than you."

"Yeah, punk!" Undyne grinned. "And this job suits you way better than the royal guard ever did!"

Papyrus glanced between the two, then looked at his brother, but Sans' eyes were shut once more, his stocky frame slouched into the couch. Papyrus sighed. It would've been nice to get a few words of encouragement from Sans, but...

*You're gonna be the best ambassador!

Frisk followed up their crisp signs with a thumbs-up, and Papyrus drew himself up to his full height.

"OF COURSE I AM. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL NOT LET ANYONE DOWN!"

\-----

"What do you suppose they're like?" Arthur's voice was a bubble of excitement in the van. Douglas tried to ignore the way Arthur bounced in his seat, but it was hard. He hadn't heard this level of anticipation in Arthur's voice since the fateful trip to Helsinki, and just the thought of that mess made him shudder.

"The monsters?" Douglas drawled, and was amused at the immediate response he got.

"They're not MONSTERS!" Arthur's protest was sharp and surprisingly cold, and Douglas could imagine the poor man with his arms crossed over his chest, trying and failing to glare daggers at the back of Douglas' head. "Everyone calls them monsters, but they can't be! Mum wouldn't accept a job from monsters."

And therein lay the amusement. "Actually, Arthur," Martin started, his hands tapping at the wheel of the van nervously. "They are. Monsters, I mean," he added, before his jaw clicked shut. It didn't remain shut for very long. "That's what they call themselves. It's not a bad thing, really. It's just... well, they don't say it the way we used to think of it." The explanation was jumbled and awkward, and so very Martin that Douglas couldn't quite resist the smile that crept onto his lips.

"What Martin means, Arthur, is that in this case, the word monster is not an insult. Rather, it's a title, much as Australian might be used for your father." The mention of Arthur's father dampened the young man's spirits a bit, but not too terribly. Douglas had been working on that for some time. "So when we call them monsters, we aren't being rude. We're accepting that this is a title they use for themselves."

"Oh," Arthur said, his bouncing stopped as he pondered that for several minutes. The silence crept through the van, lingering until Martin broke it with a soft question.

"So you're... really okay with them? Monsters, I mean?"

"They certainly can't be worse than Mr. Birling," Douglas observed casually, untwisting the bag of jelly babies and offering the open package to Martin. Without looking, Martin slipped a hand into the sack and took a few, popping one into his mouth immediately. "And they'll have new stories to tell us, rather than expecting us to be so very excited at the same old jokes as always." He offered Martin a crooked smile as Martin turned into the gated neighborhood that housed the monsters. "Besides, it should be quite an adventure, being the first pilots to fly the monster ambassador."

"The only pilots," Martin muttered, to Douglas' surprise.

"Sorry, Martin?"

"Carolyn said the king agreed to have us as the sole charter service for the Ambassador of Monsters, provided we were willing to offer a few extra services, like ground transportation." Martin's eyes darted briefly to Douglas. "With the money, she's getting another plane to expand MJN."

"A new plane," Douglas said thoughtfully. "Captained, no doubt, by Herc? I would've expected you to choose to fly with him." He turned to face the window, scowling at the faint jealousy in his tone.

Martin laughed awkwardly, squirming and staring at the road. "I missed GERT-I," he admitted, whisper-soft, after several minutes, but the words were nearly drowned out by Arthur's cry of delight.

"SKIP! MARTIN! LOOK!" Arthur poked his head between them, waving ecstatically at the driveway Martin was aiming for. "IT'S SKELETOR!"


	2. Arthur Explains Yellow Car, and the Game Is Played

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And how, though I fear I can guess, does one play Yellow Car?" - Douglas Richardson (Ottery St. Mary)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback on this story. I'm struggling with it a bit because I haven't listened to Cabin Pressure for about a year, but this is rekindling my love of that show... and I'm still having tons of fun!
> 
> I'd like to give a shoutout to Pap-chat for helping me refine my headcanons for this little fusion universe jaunt! They're all fantastically wonderful people, and I've had so much fun chatting with them.

Papyrus watched the van pull up, and he glanced over at Sans and Undyne. His brother was leaning against the house, hands in his pockets and eye sockets closed as he dozed, but Undyne was staring at the van. Her yellow eyes tracked the movement inside carefully, a cautious look in them that Papyrus understood perfectly. All three of them had already seen the humans' capacity for caring and hate, and the memory of the hate made Papyrus' soul twist in his chest. 

He watched as Undyne stalked up to the van and threw the sliding door open, but before she could shove her face into the vehicle, one of the passengers was leaping out. The young man had a massive smile on his face, and as he stared up at Undyne, he didn't seem to notice the cold look she gave him in return. He didn't notice... but Papyrus did.

"Hello!" the young man chirped, waving happily at all three of them as two other men stepped out of the van. The driver was short, barely an inch taller than Sans, with curly red hair that tumbled around his face. In his pilot's suit, he seemed almost noodly, but Papyrus couldn't quite resist a glance over at his friend Undyne, who seemed just as noodly... until she suplexed a few boulders. Few people commented on how weak she looked after that. Perhaps human muscles were similar.

The front-seat passenger was the tallest of the lot, standing only a foot or so lower than Papyrus. Where the driver was skinny, this man was well-padded, with broad shoulders and a stomach that suggested he might feel more comfortable with Sans than Undyne. Brown hair framed his face, and though he had a seemingly companionable smile, Papyrus noted a glint of sharp intelligence in his eyes. He crossed over to the driver's door and leaned against the car, seemingly relaxed in the mixed company. If anything, the antics of the first passenger appeared to amuse him.

"I'm Arthur!" the young man was saying, having ducked out from in front of Undyne to bounce over to Papyrus. He stuck his hand out, eyes alight with glee as Papyrus hesitated, then curled his skeletal hand over the flesh one. "I bet with you, they could make a really good He-Man show, huh Skip?" He glanced back at the other two humans, and the redhead stammered an awkward reply. 

"I-if he wants to, sure." He looked around the others, then stepped forward, holding out a hand in midair, as though afraid to offer it to any specific monster. Papyrus shifted to move forward, but Sans beat him there, and Papyrus fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew what came next.

"heya. i'm sans. sans the skeleton," his brother offered, gripping Martin's hand. The weak sound of a whoopie cushion farted out before Martin could even begin to speak, and the redhead's eyes widened in horrified shock.

"No!" he protested, even as his face reddened violently. "It wasn't - I didn't - I wouldn't...!" His words tumbled all over themselves, and Papyrus cleared his nonexistent throat pointedly. Sans just laughed.

"the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick," he said, lifting his hand to show everyone the small prank he'd played. "it never gets old." He stepped back to stand beside Papyrus, and Papyrus resisted the urge to lecture Sans. They were supposed to be making friends with the humans, and most humans were not like Frisk: most didn't appreciate the jokes and puns his brother liked. But rather than say anything, Papyrus simply stepped forward.

"GREETINGS, HUMANS," he offered. "I APOLOGIZE FOR MY BROTHER'S BAD JOKE. I HOPE YOU CAN STILL BE FRIENDS." 

It wasn't the redhead to answer him, to his surprise. Instead, the broad-shouldered man laughed, stepping forward. "No harm done, I'd say," he drawled, as the redhead wrung his hands. "I'm Douglas Richardson, the captain." He missed the slight flinch on the redhead's face as he spoke, but Papyrus did not. "This is my first officer, Martin Crieff, and our steward, Arthur Shappey. We'll be your crew for the foreseeable future." His delivery was smooth and relaxed. "So... which of you is Papyrus?" he asked, looking between Papyrus and Undyne. 

Papyrus stepped forward, stopping just in front of Douglas and meeting the human's eyes. He forced himself to smile warmly, though nerves shook him. "I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AMBASSADOR TO THE HUMANS," he offered, puffing his chest up in false pride. Beside Douglas, Arthur bounced just a little, his eyes wide and his grin happy.

"You're just like a superhero!" Arthur proclaimed, and Papyrus blinked, looking at the young man in surprise before his smile warmed, becoming more real. "Oooh, and that means...," he trailed off, twisting to look at Undyne with just as much excitement. "You're his sidekick, aren't you?!"

"Arthur!" Martin hissed sharply, looking absolutely horrified. Undyne stared at Arthur, too poleaxed by the question to respond. Fortunately, however, Sans was quick to answer.

"nah, i'm the sidekick," he said amiably, his ever-present smile truly happy for once. "she's his ally." Undyne shot Sans a sharp Look, but Sans and Arthur both seemed oblivious. 

"Oh," Arthur said slowly, frowning a little as he thought about what Sans had just said. "You mean like," he started, then trailed off, eyes dropping to the ground as he thought.

Douglas stared at Sans for a moment before smirking at the short skeleton. "Like Superman and Batman, Arthur. They'd be allies, right?" Behind Douglas, Martin grimaced, his hands wrung together in anxiety.

"You're right, Skip!" Arthur finally decided, brightening over at Douglas in a way that made Martin flinch and look away. Papyrus caught the pain in his face and tilted his head, resolving inwardly to help his new friends. Because... they were his friends, certainly. They were the ones who would take him around the world, and protect him in the air. So it was up to him to protect them on the ground. 

"Now that introductions are behind us," Douglas said, when he realized that Undyne didn't seem inclined to actually introduce herself, "I suggest we get into the van." He glanced over at Martin, who'd gathered himself again, and the two men shared a short nod. "I'll be driving. Do you three have any preference for seats?"

"UNDYNE SHOULD TAKE THE FRONT, SINCE SHE'S TALLER THAN BOTH OF US, AND WILL NEED THE LEG-SPACE," Papyrus declared, looking at his brother thoughtfully.

"i'll take the middle," Sans declared. "i can scoot the seat up so you have plenty of space, too, bro."

Martin looked between Papyrus and Arthur, chewing on his lower lip as he opened his mouth awkwardly. Before he could say anything, though, Sans continued. "why don't you take the middle with me, red? you can tell me more about where we're headed."

"I SUPPOSE THAT LEAVES YOU IN THE BACK WITH ME, HUMAN," Papyrus nodded, smiling quietly. The news made Arthur almost glow with pride, and in his excitement and haste to get to the door and open it, he stumbled over his own feet. Before he could do more than stumble a step, Papyrus was there, catching him under the arms and setting him back on his feet. "COME EVERYONE. LET'S GET GOING!"

\-----

It was a marvel, Douglas would later reflect, that Arthur managed to remain silent for as long as he did. The atmosphere inside the van was awkward, really. Martin seemed almost loathe to say anything, and Douglas knew well it was out of fear of stumbling over his own words and alienating the monsters they would be carting all over the world. And as he sat beside her, hands on the wheel, Douglas rather had the feeling that Undyne might be feeling much the same way. The few times he glanced over, he saw her staring determinedly out the window, her hands clenched into fists in her lap and her back so straight it hurt him just to see it. 

In the rear-view mirror, he could see Arthur and Papyrus jittering excitedly, both looking out their own windows, then at each other, but not saying anything. Sans seemed perhaps as relaxed as Douglas would've been, had he not been driving. But, alas... relaxation was not his destiny for this trip. As the silence wound them all tight, Douglas cast about for a topic to bring up. Unfortunately, his mind kept returning to the various news reports he'd heard about monsters - not precisely good topics for charming the people he was destined to work with... Still, surely he would think of something, just given enough time.

"Hey chaps? Why don't we play a game?" ...Or Arthur would. Douglas huffed out a wry laugh, settling back in the driver's seat and watching the road as he listened to Martin shake off his nerves and gather himself.

"Any particular games in mind, Arthur?" Douglas asked casually, unable to quite stop the smile. A game would be welcome, he decided. It had been quite some time since he'd played against Martin in anything. "Remembering, of course, that it's rather difficult to play charades in a car."

"You know what we can play in a car?" Arthur replied brightly, bouncing in his seat once more. Before Douglas could respond, however, a new voice entered the conversation.

"WHAT CAN WE PLAY IN A CAR, BOUNCY HUMAN?" Douglas struggled to keep the laugh inside. He'd never really heard a more apt description of Arthur. From the seat behind him, he could hear Martin struggling to suppress his own laugh.

"We can play... Yellow Car!" Arthur finished with a flourish. Silence settled over the van in the wake of his announcement, and Douglas blinked. Admittedly, Yellow Car was far from his own favorite game, but Martin rather liked it, as he recalled. And the monsters... oh.

"Arthur," Douglas spoke up, catching the steward's attention.

"Yeah, Skip?" Douglas didn't have to imagine the way Martin's nose scrunched at the title, because he could see it in the rear-view mirror as he looked back at his steward. At some point, he and Martin would probably have to talk about it.

"I don't think our new friends know how to play Yellow Car. And Martin may have forgotten. It has been rather a while since he was with us," he couldn't quite resist pointing out. There was a hiss of annoyance behind him. "Why don't you tell everyone the rules?"

"Oh! Yeah! Good thinking, Skip!" Douglas had to wonder whether Martin would have a meltdown before they even made it back to the airfield, at this rate. "Okay, so, imagine you're riding in a car," Arthur began. Instead of Martin interrupting, however, it was Papyrus who spoke up.

"AREN'T WE ALREADY RIDING IN A CAR?" he asked, sounding uncomfortably confused.

"ad-VAN-tage to us, then, eh bro?" Sans chipped in, drawing a loud groan from the tall skeleton.

"Shut up, nerd! I wanna hear what's next!" Undyne growled, twisting in her seat to glare at Sans. Douglas had to wonder just what sort of chaos he was destined for.

"Right," Arthur said, sounding slightly flustered. "Well... so, we see the cars coming in the other direction, and they're all different colors. There are blue ones and white ones and red ones," he rambled, before Undyne cut him off.

"And when we see a yellow car, we yell, right?!"

"You don't have to yell," Arthur said, quieter than normal. "You can just say you saw it." Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Douglas saw Papyrus reach out and set a hand on Arthur's arm, patting him lightly. Arthur turned an awkward smile to the skeleton, and Douglas breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yelling might surprise the driver," he added, to reinforce to the monsters why it was a quieter game than the woman beside him believed. "Surprising a driver is rarely a good idea. So simply state that you saw a car."

"Oh," Undyne muttered, scowling as she stared at the oncoming cars. "...Right."

\-----

They were nearly to the airfield, but Papyrus wasn't entirely certain they'd make it there without something going catastrophically wrong, and he was once more wondering about the wisdom of bringing Undyne along. The growling in the front seat had been growing since Arthur had first proposed the game of Yellow Car. As if to mock his worries, a quiet voice spoke up from the middle. 

"yellow car." Barely a breath passed before Undyne hissed sharply, and Papyrus looked between his brother and his best friend before glancing over to Arthur.

"OUT OF CURIOSITY, BOUNCY HUMAN... HOW DOES THIS GAME END?" The question was met with a strangled laugh from the human beside his brother, and Papyrus tilted his skull in confusion. Clearly the redhead could sense some of the danger inherent in Sans goading Undyne, but were all the humans as concerned as he was? Was Undyne so intimidating to all of them? That would probably be a problem he would have to address as ambassador.

"It never ends." Arthur looked at Papyrus in surprise. He wasn't bouncing much anymore, but he reached out to pat Papyrus' hand without hesitation, and his grin was still friendly. He opened his mouth to say more, but Undyne interrupted before he could.

"Then how do you win, punk?!" A snore that might've been a snicker followed the indignant question, and Undyne growled again. Perhaps Papyrus could convince Undyne not to stay away from Alphys after this trip? It was clear that Sans was enjoying needling her, after all, and the two of them were giving him a bit of a headache, really.

"You... don't win," Arthur responded, staring down at where his hands were twisting together in his lap. His shoulders were hunched inward just a little, and the downcast look on his face...

"NOT EVERY GAME IS ABOUT WINNING, UNDYNE. THIS ONE SEEMS LIKE A GOOD TRAINING EXERCISE FOR THE ROYAL GUARD, IN FACT," Papyrus pointed out gently. He pushed enthusiasm and energy into his words, wanting to take the attention off his new human friend. "AFTER ALL, IT'S TRAINING YOUR EYES TO SPOT CARS FASTER THAN SANS CAN. THAT'S A GOOD GAME FOR GUARDS TO PLAY, RIGHT, UNDYNE?" 

Undyne twisted in her seat to glare at Papyrus and Sans, then huffed as she flopped back around to stare straight ahead. "Yeah, I guess. But... how will we know how well everyone does if we don't keep score?"

"But... keeping score might make someone feel bad," Arthur pointed out softly. "It's not meant to make anyone feel bad." Papyrus looked over at Arthur, deciding in that moment that Asgore had likely made a very good decision when it came to the charter service for Papyrus.

Undyne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tapping clawed fingers against the car as she considered Arthur's words. Papyrus knew the thoughts running through her head, because she'd talked with him about some of them long before the Barrier fell. At the time, he'd thought she was referring to someone else, but once Frisk had arrived in the Underground, he hadn't been able to hide from certain truths any longer. Straightening in his seat, he knew he'd stopped needing to hide from them.

"Fine, no keeping score," Undyne finally huffed out. Again came the snore-snicker, and Papyrus reached out to tap a single phalanx on Sans' skull. He knew the silent warning would not go unnoticed. It was a long-standing tradition between the brothers, particularly where Undyne was concerned.

"No time to, anyway," Douglas finally spoke up from the driver's seat. He drew the van to a stop and smiled. "We've arrived."


	3. GERT-I is Insulted, and Papyrus Makes a Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How-how many people in a bobsled?" - Martin Crieff (Vaduz)

Douglas wasn't the first out of the van, which wasn't unusual. However, neither was Arthur, which was very odd. But with Martin and Sans in the way, even Arthur's indomitable enthusiasm was tempered enough to wait his turn. Still, Douglas managed to get out before he missed the look in Martin's eyes as the man saw GERT-I for the first time in two years. The older pilot tried to pretend that there wasn't a tightness in his chest at the soft warmth in Martin's eyes, or the tiny smile that curved his lips. But warmth and smile both faded into shock the moment Undyne spoke up.

"That's what we're going to be in?" she asked, her lip curled so that sharp teeth showed, and her yellow eyes narrowed sharply. Douglas turned to say something, but Martin was already there, jetting around the front of the van so fast Douglas felt the breeze as Martin's body whipped past.

"And what is that supposed to mean?!" he demanded, his body so rigid it was almost vibrating and his hands clenched into fists at his side. Douglas took a step forward to stop him, but found himself falling still as he simply watched the drama unfold. Gone were the days of Martin's stammering, sheepish apologies for the state of the plane, apparently. Douglas had no idea if it was down to the changes in Martin since leaving, or just the way he'd apparently missed GERT-I, but Douglas couldn't quite find it in himself to stop the proceedings.

Besides... the stunned look on Undyne's face was amusing.

"UNDYNE," Papyrus said, as he climbed out of the van. Even Douglas could hear the disappointment in his voice, and Undyne dragged her eyes over to the ambassador with a scowl of frustration. "YOU SOUNDED A LITTLE SURPRISED. WERE YOU NOT AWARE WE WERE FLYING?"

Still crowding Undyne's personal space, Martin hesitated, his eyes shifting to the tall skeleton in uncertainty. The fight slowly faded from him, and Douglas stepped forward, resting one large hand on Martin's shoulder. Martin stepped back slowly, fire still in his eyes as he stared at Undyne, but she was ignoring him now in favor of glaring at Papyrus.

"Papyrus," she gritted out, waving one hand at the plane. "Is that thing even safe?"

And Martin's fire was back tenfold. As he moved to take a step forward, Douglas squeezed his shoulder just enough to catch his attention. The redhead looked back at Douglas, and Douglas smiled gently. "GERT-I's missed you, too, Martin," he said, his voice pitched for Martin's ears alone, and was rewarded with a startled widening of Martin's eyes and sudden uncertainty in his gaze. 

And then Douglas was stepping away, moving to insert himself in Undyne's line-of-sight. Before Papyrus could say anything, he was speaking up, because really, it wasn't so surprising a question. "GERT-I's a little old, I'll grant you, but she's perfectly safe," he said, voice honey-smooth and all of his own irritation tamped down because he was a Professional, and because GERT-I was his. 

"SHE HAS A NAME?" Papyrus asked, head swiveling to look at Douglas in surprise, and then he was off, running at the plane in abandon. Arthur darted after him, and Douglas stepped forward to hold out a hand to Undyne.

"I do understand your concern, but I assure you," he began his voice lower and a little rougher in that way he knew women found intriguing. He wasn't above a bit of flirtation with a monster, after all... especially if it would soothe the way. "Martin and I will get you to your destinations safely."

She stared at him for a minute, a confused look on her face. And then she was doubled-over, guffaws so loud that Douglas rather suspected ATC must be able to hear her from their tower. It took Martin stepping up beside him and touching his shoulder for Douglas to realize that his own hands had clenched into a fist, and he drew a slow breath, consciously uncurling them.

And the laughter went on.

And on.

The pilots shared a look of frustrated annoyance, and moved toward the plane as one. Halfway there, the other skeleton was walking beside them - just... there, without any hint he'd been approaching. Martin jumped, and only years of ex-wives and reputation-building stopped Douglas from doing the same. "don't mind undyne, okay?" Sans said companionably enough, hands jammed in his hoodie and eyes on the plane in front of them. "she's real awkward when it comes to flirting."

"She didn't sound awkward," Douglas said, then bit his tongue as he realized the petulance in his tone. He took a breath and tried again. "She sounded amused."

"she forgets not everyone up here knows she's with someone," Sans shrugged. "also, the whole monster/human thing is kinda... weird."

"It wouldn't be the strangest relationship I'd ever had," Douglas drawled, for lack of anything better to say. Beside him, Martin shot him an indescipherable look. "But I'm not one for breaking up a partnership. She has nothing to worry about from me."

"Oh, I wasn't WORRIED," Undyne smirked from behind them. Martin jumped, Sans chuckled, and Douglas just continued walking. 

"I'm glad to hear it," Douglas murmured, pausing by the plane and waving the others back. "Arthur?" he asked, and Arthur peeled himself away from where he'd been chattering at Papyrus to reach out and tug the steps open so that they could board.

"I'm so glad you sent your luggage over earlier," he enthused, moving to stand beside the stairs like a good steward, his eyes so bright that Douglas could imagine the wagging tail he would sport if he were a dog. "It makes getting on so much easier."

Papyrus didn't wait to bound up the steps, eager to see the inside of the plane. He had to duck a bit as he searched out the best seat on GERT-I, peering out each of the small windows on either side. Undyne was next, her steps hesitant and her face set in scowl. Beside Douglas, Sans shrugged. "we've been underground a long time," he pointed out, turning his grin on the two pilots and the steward. "nothing fishy about being uncomfortable in the air, right?"

"Did you just..." Martin began, frowning at Sans, and the skeleton winked, clicking his teeth and pointing a finger-gun at Martin before climbing the steps.

Left outside the plane, Martin and Douglas looked at each other, weakly awkward smiles on their lips. They shrugged simultaneously, and Douglas gestured to the steps. "Learn any new games while you were gone, Martin?"

\-----

At the door to the cockpit, Douglas watched Martin standing in the small space, looking awkwardly between the seats. The older pilot sighed when Martin wrung his hands, and moved to step around him. As Douglas brushed against Martin, he kept his face straight ahead, a faint rumble that might've been apology slipping from his throat. He took his place in the captain's seat, trying to ignore the way guilt crawled over his back. After two years of being captain, it didn't matter that Martin was back. GERT-I was Douglas' charge.

"Ah, um... yes, of course," Martin mumbled, gingerly slipping into the first mate's seat and poking at the controls. "Yes... yes, of course," he said again, to fill up the silence between them. Douglas sighed.

"How's the bobsled?" The casual question made Martin stiffen sharply, and Douglas couldn't resist a wide grin at the offended look Martin shot him. "You remember, then. I would've thought you might've... I don't know..." He let his words trail off suggestively, and Martin groaned.

"Do you ask all your colleagues about their... their love lives... right away?" he grumbled, raking a hand through his hair and slouching back in his seat.

Douglas laughed richly. "Well, you did happen to witness the state of mine," he assured Martin companionably, waving a hand toward the entrance to the plane. When a snicker escaped Martin, Douglas smiled in pride. "So... your princess?"

"We ended it," Martin admitted, his grin fading as he thought about her. "She was great and all, but..." The way he trailed off caught Douglas' attention.

"But?" the older pilot prompted. Martin's head darted up, and he shrugged too casually. 

"What about you? Is there a new Mrs. Richardson yet?" The attempt to change the subject was obvious and uninspired, but Douglas let it pass. It would take a bit of time, he supposed, to find the cameraderie he and Martin had once shared. Still, that wasn't a bad thing, he decided.

"No. Herc's been regaling me with enough tales of wedded bliss," Douglas replied smoothly. "I haven't felt the need to contribute my own." He shrugged lazily as Martin continued his check of the plane. "I am curious about something, though, Martin," he added, his voice pitched low and warm.

"What?" Martin asked absently, as the last checks finished. 

"What happened at SwissAir?"

Almost instantly, Martin sat straight up, swiveling to stare at Douglas. "Why?!" he demanded in a choked voice that set Douglas' nerves on edge. "I mean... it's not like it's important, right?"

"Martin," Douglas prompted, lowering his voice a bit, and Martin tensed. Under Douglas' stare, he turned in his seat to stare at the runway. 

"Let's... get underway first?" he suggested, voice so soft. Douglas sighed, wanting to argue, but when Martin finally glanced back at him, the sadness in Martin's eyes startled him. He nodded slowly, reaching for the intercom.

This, he had a handle on. He'd been considering what to say during the whole drive to the airfield, and he opened his mouth with a lazy smirk. "Friends," he opened, earning a startled but happy blink from Martin. "We're preparing to take off now. The first stop on our world tour is the lovely city of Toronto. Settle back, and let our steward explain to you more about the plane. And enjoy the ride," Douglas drawled before shutting down the intercom and settling back into his seat. "Take-off is yours, Martin..."

\-----

Seated near the front of the plane as he was, Papyrus had no difficulty seeing Arthur as he stood just before the curtain. He straightened slightly when Douglas mentioned him, puffing up a bit in pride that made Papyrus brighten a little, and he held up a small plastic cup. 

The safety speech was obviously rote. Arthur breezed through the convoluted mixture of odd grammar and human safety devices without pausing to take questions, and across the aisle, Papyrus saw Undyne glance over at him and then shrug pointedly. He could hear Sans already snoring lightly in the back of the plane, and so he left it alone. Asgore would not have chosen a service that was unlikely to get them safely to their destination, Papyrus reasoned. 

At length, Arthur disappeared behind the curtain to the galley, and Undyne twisted in her seat to look at Papyrus. "Will any of that even work on us?" Though he could tell it was a legitimate question, her tone was derisive. His eyes darted to the galley, then back to Undyne as he considered.

"I'M... NOT SURE," he admitted, tempering his volume so that he wouldn't disturb the cabin crew. "BUT WE WILL BE FINE. ASGORE WOULD NOT PICK A SERVICE THAT WAS UNSAFE, AND WE ALL HAVE MAGIC THAT CAN BE OF USE FOR PROTECTION." 

Undyne snorted, nodding her head back toward where Sans slouched. "He'd sleep through it," she muttered. She opened her mouth to say more, then frowned when she realized Papyrus was scowling at her.

"HE IS NOT AS UNTRUSTWORTHY AS YOU MAKE HIM SOUND!" he chided his friend. Undyne rolled her eyes, but flashed her teeth in a smirk. 

"I know, Papyrus," she agreed, gold eye flicking back to where Sans continued to sleep peacefully. "But you have to admit, he sleeps really hard."

"i can still help if we get into trouble," Sans noted lazily without bothering to open his eyes. "right, bro?" Undyne's eye shot back to Papyrus, only to see the tall skeleton settled back in his seat peacefully.

"SANS MAY BE LAZY, BUT HE WOULD NEVER JUST STAND BY IF WE WERE IN DANGER," he said certainly, folding his hands over his chest. "YOU JUST DON'T KNOW HIM AS I KNOW HIM."

"bro...," Sans started, sounding uncomfortably awkward. Before he could continue, however, the steward had bounced back into view, pad of paper and pencil in hand.

"Chicken or beef?" he asked brightly, smiling at them all with a grin to rival the sun. Distracted by him, Papyrus never answered the soft almost-protest of his brother.


	4. A Black Cloud and Protestors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is your captain speaking. Just to say there is absolutely nothing to worry about." - Martin Crieff (Douz)

Douglas settled back in his seat, looking over at Martin with a lazy smile as the pilot fussed over the last few settings before falling still. "Now then, Martin," Douglas drawled, voice pitched lower than he'd really planned. Something about the way Martin had reacted to the question earlier made Douglas want to show Martin that he meant to keep the man's secrets. And, if he were honest with himself, he still missed the easy camaraderie they'd once had. "I do believe you had a story to share?"

Martin sat ramrod straight for a long minute before he slumped. Both hands came up, rubbing over his face and dislodging the hat so that instead of sitting very neatly atop his tousled curls, it tilted rakishly to one side. Douglas quirked a smile at the image of Martin as a rake, but said nothing. "You don't really want to hear it," the redhead tried awkwardly, and Douglas laughed.

"Of course I do, Martin," he assured the younger pilot, his eyes gentle. "I was a little sad you opted not to keep in touch, of course, but new jobs of course, right...?" He waved a hand to dismiss the complaint before Martin could stammer out some sort of apology. "This new job caused some problems, though?"

Martin groaned, setting his jaw and turning to face Douglas fully. Douglas grinned when he recognized the way misery had faded into defensive determination. Martin may have been hesitating to share before this moment, but as soon as his eyes had hardened, Douglas knew that he'd get the full story. Still, a bit of encouraging couldn't hurt. "Would you like a prompt, Martin? Once upon a time, there was an air service in Switzerland..." Douglas began, and Martin hissed sharply.

"Don't make fun of me, Douglas," he snarled, and Douglas blinked as he realized Martin's hands were curled into fists. That wasn't the hurt amusement he was used to hearing from Martin, either. If he were honest with himself, that was honest hurt he'd caused Martin, though he hadn't intended to mock Martin's pain. Rather than try to defend himself, the older pilot simply raised his hands in silent surrender.

"I'm terribly sorry, Martin. I suppose it's been too long. Please, share your story," he murmured, and Martin eyed him warily for a moment. Once Douglas started to lower his hands, however, Martin drew a breath.

"It wasn't like flying with you," he admitted, turning to stare out the window rather than look at Douglas. There was pain in his voice, and Douglas wasn't quite sure if the pain was because of the memories, or the gentle jibes Douglas had just treated him to. Douglas decided to chance a bit of a nudge.

"No sense of humor?" he asked quietly, and was treated with a glare from Martin. ...Perhaps interrupting had not been the best choice.

"Oh, they had a sense of humor," Martin muttered, one fist clenched. "Especially after the monsters started showing up on the news. "Thing is, there's a difference between being _funny_ and just being a... a horrible person," he growled. "They didn't tease me. Not like you did." Martin's leg began to bounce violently, his whole body vibrating just enough for Douglas to pick up on the movement. The redhead was desperate to pace, and without any room in the cockpit, all he could do was sit there.

"They mocked you," Douglas whispered, unable to quite stop himself. Martin didn't even spare him a glance.

"It's not like I was special in that," he bit out. "They mocked everyone. I'm not a child, Douglas. I can take a bit of bullying," he added, and then he did turn to stare at Douglas. His eyes were still hard, a fire in them that Douglas had missed. Here was the Martin that stood up to Douglas whenever Douglas tried too hard to get his way. Here was the Martin who defended his crew against whatever the customers might throw their way. Here was the Martin who had stood up against his family and gotten his CPL, no matter how many tries it took.

...Here was the Martin that Douglas had missed the most.

"They started talking about the monsters," he snarled, slamming his hand down on the arm of his seat. "The things they said... Douglas, they were worse than anything I've heard. There was... there was _hate_ there. I couldn't just ignore that," he insisted, his voice growing more strangled and miserable as he remembered. 

"Martin," Douglas spoke up, but Martin wasn't listening anymore. He didn't even flash a glare at Douglas for interrupting, too far gone in his own memories. 

"The king reached out to them. He reached out to all the major airlines first," he growled. He shook with fury, and Douglas couldn't quite stop himself from quirking a smile. As much as it pained him to see Martin miserable, he had always rather liked the way the young man looked with righteous indignation in his eyes.

"Obviously, they weren't interested," Douglas chipped in, and was rewarded with a snarl and a nod. 

"The pilots _laughed_ about it," Martin hissed, leaning toward Douglas. "Can you believe that? They didn't care that it wasn't right, or how they were even treating the monsters. When I heard what was going on, I decided something had to be done." He lifted his chin in challenge, but Douglas smiled.

"Discretion never was your strong suit, was it, Martin?" he asked gently.

Martin's lip curled in disgust. "Discretion like that is just an excuse to ignore what's going on," he informed Douglas firmly. "You wouldn't have ignored it! Arthur and Carolyn wouldn't have ignored it!"

Douglas laughed richly at that. "And here I thought you'd lost all your naivete," he said companionably, ignoring the sensation of a warm tightness settling in his chest. "I thought I'd killed your idealism ages ago."

Martin rolled his eyes, some of the intensity of his fire fading. "You wouldn't," he insisted, before dragging in a shaky breath. When he exhaled, more of that fury faded. "I went to the top. I insisted they reconsider the monster's request."

"Insisted, Martin?" Douglas asked, leaning forward in his chair. He set his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together between them.

Martin flinched. "I told them that if they were going to ignore a paying customer out of narrow-minded hatred, they'd have to find a new pilot," he admitted softly. The admission had taken the last of the wind out of his sails, and he slumped back in the chair, looking out at the clouds once more. "...They did."

"So did Carolyn," Douglas pointed out, hesitating a moment before giving into the urge and reaching out to pat Martin's arm with one large hand. Martin jumped at the contact, and looked over at Douglas in surprise. Douglas quirked a smile. "You called her, didn't you? You're the one who put her in contact with the monsters?"

Martin blushed vividly, turning away sharply to check the dials. "Do you suppose Arthur's done with the coffee yet?" he changed the subject sharply, and Douglas laughed richly.

"He should be soon."

\-----

Arthur had been staring at him ever since the steward had finished the drinks service, and it was starting to make Sans prickle. What he couldn't quite figure out was _why_ the human was staring at him. The kid didn't seem to have any issues bouncing over to Papyrus or Undyne when they needed him, but something about Sans seemed to put him on edge. The kid's smile turned awkward any time he had to approach the short skeleton, and he scurried away as soon as an exchange was over.

Sans just couldn't figure out what was going on, and not knowing was beginning to eat at him.

"I'M RATHER SURPRISED YOU'RE STILL AWAKE, SANS," Papyrus confided, pride echoing through the plane. "NORMALLY YOU'D BE BACK TO DOZING ALREADY." Sans snorted at the compliment, flashing a wry grin at Papyrus. Once upon a time, such observations had hurt, but after so many years and so many resets, he'd grown accustomed to them.

"what can i say?" he asked, catching Arthur's eye and staring back. Arthur paled visibly under Sans' gaze. "this trip has been pretty interesting so far. plus, you made a new friend, didn't you?" He nodded his skull toward Arthur, and saw the man jump slightly just before Papyrus looked over.

"Yes sir,?" Arthur asked, edging closer in the clear assumption that Sans had been trying to catch his attention. Sans eyed the man, then settled back in his seat. It was a little disappointing that one of the crew was so freaked out, but... as long as he was nice to Papyrus, Sans supposed. Except...

"IS SOMETHING WRONG, BOUNCY HUMAN?" Papyrus' words jerked Arthur's attention around, and the man fidgeted where he stood. Sans' eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked between the two.

"Nothing at all!" Arthur chirped unconvincingly, and Papyrus frowned deeply. "What makes you think anything's wrong?"

And wasn't that the wrong answer? Sans saw Papyrus' eyelights narrow, and drew a slow breath. Papyrus leaned in, browbones drawn down low over his eyes as he stared hard at Arthur, and the steward shifted awkwardly under his gaze. "MY BROTHER BOTHERS YOU, DOESN'T HE, BOUNCY HUMAN?" Papyrus finally proclaimed. Before Arthur could even attempt to lie, Papyrus held up a hand. "DON'T DENY IT. YOU ARE NOT BOUNCY WHEN YOU APPROACH SANS, AND YOU RUN AWAY. THESE ARE BOTH VERY CLEAR SIGNS THAT YOU DO NOT LIKE SANS." 

To anyone else, Papyrus said it all with the sharp attention of a master sleuth. But Sans could hear the moment his voice shifted to sympathy, and the sound relaxed him. He slouched back into his seat, his eyes halfway closed as he continued to watch the conversation. Undyne on the other side of the plane, Undyne seemed furious, but Sans wasn't worried about her. Papyrus would keep her in line well enough. He was just glad Papyrus had such a capacity for forgiveness.

"It's not that I don't like him," Arthur muttered, scuffing the toe of one shoe against the threadbare carpet of the plane. 

"THEN WHAT IS WRONG, HUMAN? IF YOU NEED SOME TIME TO ADJUST TO THE FACT THAT WE ARE MONSTERS, I AM CERTAIN THAT IT CAN BE ARRANGED. I KNOW NOT EVERYONE IS IMMEDIATELY COMFORTABLE WITH US." The gentle kindness and acceptance in the words made Sans flinch slightly. So few people out there deserved the unfailing love and compassion of his brother. Would this human prove to be one of them?

Could anyone really deserve it, when even Papyrus' own brother had let him down? Sans felt the thought crawl along his spine and huffed softly, shoving the dark thought back down into the recesses of his skull.

"It's not that! Monsters are BRILLIANT!" Arthur hastened to assure Papyrus, then glanced over at Sans to include him in the conversation. A second later, his eyes were darting away uncomfortably again, and Sans frowned deeply. "It's just..."

Papyrus unfolded from where he sat, making his awkward way over to the steward despite the way the small cabin forced him to bed almost double. "ARTHUR," he said, and his voice was as gentle as he'd ever been with Frisk, and just as intense. "PLEASE. IF SOMETHING IS BOTHERING YOU, ALLOW ME TO HELP RESOLVE IT. AFTER ALL, TOGETHER WE CAN OVERCOME ANYTHING."

"Well, it's just...," Arthur started, staring up at Papyrus as the skeleton rested a hand on his shoulder. "The cloud's pretty scary."

Cloud? Sans sat up at that, leaning forward a little. "hey kid," he said, sockets narrowed and eyelights shrunk into tiny pinpricks of fear. "what cloud?"

"That black one," Arthur shuddered, waving one hand in the general direction of Sans. "The one all around you. Why do you make the air so dark?"

Papyrus, Undyne, and Sans all shared a wide-eyed look, but said nothing. Sans sank back into his seat, his mind whirling and working so hard he didn't notice Papyrus or Undyne speak.

_The black cloud..._

\-----

"Are you sure, Carolyn?" Martin groaned, reaching up to rub the back of his neck anxiously. Douglas could certainly understand why. The news was far from ideal, really, but it wasn't the worst thing they'd ever overcome.

...He hoped.

"Martin, I may have hired you back, but don't mistake that for me going soft," Carolyn snapped over the sat-phone. "It's going to take far more than two years for me to willingly throw away money." Douglas could hear the frustration in her voice, and sighed.

"Have no fear, Carolyn," he said quietly, before Martin could press for more details. "We'll handle it." Martin looked over at Douglas in annoyance, and Douglas shrugged. There was little enough Carolyn could do from Fitton, really. "If nothing else, we can arrange for them to sleep with us."

As Martin squeaked, Douglas could almost _hear_ Carolyn's eyes narrow. He laughed at the two of them. "Hardly what I meant and you both know it." While Martin huffed, Carolyn's response made Douglas' stomach twist.

"I know exactly why, too." The words were sharp and vicious, layered with catty amusement that Douglas didn't want to think about. Before Martin could ask about it, however, Douglas spoke up again.

"Rest assured, Carolyn, we won't let anything happen to our charges. Now go pester Herc," he added in clear dismissal, shutting down the sat-phone before Martin could press her for more information.

"Douglas!" Martin hissed, scandalized, as Douglas reached for the intercom. Douglas chuckled, but the sound was weak enough. 

"If I spend the whole time chatting with her, how am I supposed to decide the best course of action, Martin?" he asked reasonably, smirking when Martin nodded awkwardly. "Any thoughts?"

Martin sighed, slumping back in his seat as his hands twisted together. Douglas' eyes lingered on the long digits twining for a moment before he sighed. He almost missed it when Martin finally spoke up. "I think you're right." 

There was a surprising lack of bitterness in the words. Douglas had prepared himself to argue his point, but Martin was calm when he assessed the situation. "They need a safe place to sleep, and they'll be safer if we're in the same hotel. Even safer if we're in the same room or right next door," he added, nodding slowly. 

"You've gotten a better handle on your temper, haven't you, Martin?" Douglas murmured, pride in his eyes as he lifted the intercom to his lips. Martin's eyes narrowed, but he remained quiet.

"Friends and cabin crew," Douglas began, pitching his voice low and soothing. "I would like to apologize in advance for the inconvenience of changing your accommodations when we land. Sadly, I have been informed that protesters have gathered near the hotel booked for you, and we cannot in good conscience allow you to face them alone." The dark look in Martin's eyes faded a tiny bit as Douglas continued to speak.

"Rather than make arrangements for sleeping accommodations in the air, and give the protesters time to regroup, we have decided to wait until we land. This is certainly not the ideal solution, but we believe that it will have the best results for everyone. Well," Douglas amended, "for everyone who deserves them, anyway."

The sharp "HA" from Undyne echoed through the door, and Douglas fought back a chuckle. "We do believe you will be comfortable enough in the same hotel as us, so we'll seek out sleeping arrangements there once we land. Again, MJN would like to apologize for any inconvenience this causes." He closed down the intercom, then turned to Martin. "Well?"

Martin smiled sadly, nodding to Douglas with a proud look. "...Well done, as you know," he muttered. "Always well done."

Douglas felt his chest swell with the comment.


End file.
